


Out of the Blue

by Misdemeanor1331



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chance Meetings, Co-workers, F/M, MLE Officer Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misdemeanor1331/pseuds/Misdemeanor1331
Summary: On a clear spring day, Draco Malfoy is tasked to guard an empty park. He assumes it’s a slight from his superior in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. That is, until Hermione Granger falls from the sky.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 25
Kudos: 116
Collections: Dramione Valentine Exchange





	Out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LionLadyBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LionLadyBee/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneValentineExchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneValentineExchange) collection. 



> **Prompt:** Song Prompt: One Beer - Hardy
> 
> Written for the 2021 Dramione Valentine Exchange for Lionladybee. Lionladybee, I went in a bit of a different direction with your prompt, inspired by the lyrics, “Just like that everything rearranges / Life changes out of the blue.” I hope you like my spin on things!
> 
> No beta; we die like men! All mistakes are my own.

**Out of the Blue**

Draco stalked the public park’s perimeter, wand held close against his forearm. He looked out of place, his clothes too dark and his countenance too dour for the budding spring day. But he was on official Ministry business and had to look the part.

Or so he told himself. It was the only way he could stomach such an inane task. 

Draco’s supervisor, a bitter man named Wouter Smythe, had approached him earlier that day with an assignment. 

Objective one: clear the park. 

A task easier said than done on the rare, bright day in central London. The sun shone in a sky devoid of clouds, and a breeze with just the whisper of winter reminded the city’s inhabitants of how quickly the weather could turn. Couples and children and artists and exercisers had turned out in droves, crowding the park’s paved paths and lounging in its soft grass. It had taken several Muggle-Repelling Charms and a decent amount of glaring to drive people away. 

Objective two: keep it clear. 

Hence the stalking, intermittently interrupted by a reapplication of the charms. 

Smythe hadn’t indicated why this park merited armed guard, or how long Draco was required to patrol it. He’d been walking the same loop for an hour now and had seen no action besides the clumsy flight of pudgy birds and a pair of rambunctious squirrels. 

This mission, like so many others he’d received while working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was bullshite. 

For two years, Draco had shouldered them without complaint. He’d been eager to prove his commitment to the department, hoping, perhaps naively, that his willingness to endure the drudgery of evidence reconciliation and witness statement verification would put him on a fast-track to the Auror Office. 

He’d yet to see any payout for his efforts. In fact, the department was filled with young recruits, all of whom had less field experience. Any one of them would have been better suited to park patrol. 

Indignation heated Draco’s cheeks. He felt not only used, but furious. Angry at a supervisor who didn’t respect him, and with himself for allowing it to happen. He was wasted on guarding an empty garden. He was capable of more—was _worth_ more. 

It was high time he reminded people of that. 

Decided, Draco cut a diagonal across the park’s sunny central square. Midway through, he paused, caught cold by the sound of a woman’s scream. The sound had been faint, faraway. He furrowed his brow. From above? 

He tipped his head back. 

A woman hurtled toward the earth. Aside from her preliminary shout, she fell in silence. Her left arm was flung out wide, her right extended straight so that the slim point of her wand aimed at the ground. Her cloak fluttered behind her, a broken wing against her free fall. 

Adrenaline flooded Draco’s system. Magical Law Enforcement had trained him for damn near everything but had yet to cover free-falling witches. He took a wide stance, steadied his aim, and shouted. 

“ _Arresto Momentum_!” 

Her body jerked in midair, yanked as if by a giant elastic cord. It slowed her, but not enough. He cast again, and her body recoiled with a violence Draco felt in his bones. 

Horror curled his stomach. Even from a distance, Draco saw her fierce, focused expression turn slack. Her fingers went limp, and her wand, unaffected by his spells, clattered to the ground beside him. If he cast again, he might knock her unconscious. 

But if he didn’t… 

There wasn’t time to waste. He cast a third charm, slowing her enough so that the impact wouldn’t kill her. But it would still hurt like hell. There was only one thing for it. 

Draco grit his teeth and braced himself below her, arms outstretched. 

The woman crashed into his chest, and breath punched out of him as he hit the ground. She lay atop him, a deadweight of heavy limbs and wild, wind-blown brown hair. Draco inhaled with a groan and rolled her so that she rested across his lap. He struggled to his elbows. Only when he’d cleared the hair from her face did he recognize her. 

“ _Granger_?” 

Hermione’s brown eyes fluttered open, then narrowed in a wince. “ _Malfoy_?” 

“What the hell were you doing up there?” 

She raised a hand to her head, slow with pain. “Stop shouting, please. What did you do to me?” 

“Aside from saving your life?” Draco lowered his voice to a hiss; a sharp pain in his torso made anything louder akin to agony. “Merlin, I think you broke my ribs.” 

“You should’ve cast a Cushioning Charm.” 

Half-conscious and she was still a know-it-all. He rolled his eyes and helped her to a seat. “Where did you even come from?” 

She sent him a pained, sideways look. “That’s Unknowable.” 

Draco scowled. Hermione was an Unspeakable and clearly assigned to one of the larger, more sensitive Mysteries. Unspeakables were taciturn by requirement, but only True Mysteries earned the _Unknowable_ intelligence classification. 

“That’s bullshite,” he spat. A mistake, as the pain in his side spiked. “I was obviously sent here to make sure you didn’t die. The least you can do is tell me what I sacrificed my body for.” 

“I can’t.” With gentle fingers, she massaged the back of her neck. “I’m going to have one hell of a headache later.” 

“I have one hell of a headache _now_.” 

They sat in silence for a measure, catching their breath and cataloguing their injuries. Fortunately, neither of them would have to visit St. Mungo’s. Hermione rested back on her hands and looked up at the sky. 

“Thank you,” she said. “That could’ve ended much worse.” 

“No problem.” Draco breathed a quiet laugh. “I doubt letting you die would’ve helped me get into the Auror program.” 

“You’re wasted there, you know.” Their eyes caught. “Aurors are a bunch of hot-heads. Cast first, question later, and hard pressed to think of a plan.” 

Draco frowned. “Potter and Weasley are Aurors.”

Her mouth quirked in a grin. “Exactly my point.” 

“And I suppose you think I’d do better in Mysteries?” 

A loaded look provided her answer. 

“Look, Granger, I can’t just uproot my entire life. I have a plan, a future—”

“You have many futures,” she said cryptically. “Come down to Mysteries one day, and maybe I’ll show you a few of them.” 

Draco gaped as Hermione struggled to her feet. She brushed grass from her cloak and attempted to flatten the lion’s mane of her hair. She gave up with an aggrieved sigh. 

“Thanks again, Malfoy. I hope to see you soon.” 

With a clumsy turn, she Disapparated. Draco stared at the space she’d left. Her offer didn’t seem real, though the pain radiating through this body strongly indicated otherwise. 

The Department of Mysteries… It wasn’t a bad idea. Draco looked up at the clear blue sky and couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t often opportunity fell into one’s lap. 

It was even rarer for it to be so damn literal.

**The End**


End file.
